


Mix and Match

by apricity



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: F/F, Season 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-01
Packaged: 2018-01-03 02:52:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1064887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apricity/pseuds/apricity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a snippet of happiness for these two set in season three when things were so bleak for them both.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mix and Match

You had expected that you would run into problems when you started spending the night at the intern house. You had expected George to have a minor panic attack every time he saw your hand on Izzie’s leg or her lips on your neck, and you had expected that running into Meredith in the bathroom would be awkward (especially if one, or both, of you had sex hair). But you hadn’t expected having to do this, and Izzie had left early this morning for pre-rounds, so you can’t even ask her if she would be ok with it.

 

You pace around her room, thinking. The only other solution that comes to mind is asking Meredith, but that (in addition to adding yet another layer of awkwardness to your relationship) would carry a note of irony you just didn’t think you could stand. So you walk to Izzie’s dresser, look at your reflection and sigh, then continue getting ready.

 

When you left the house you had felt more self conscious than you had in a long time. But after three surgeries you had forgotten to feel awkward and even forgotten just _why_ you want to find Izzie so badly.

 

You sneak up behind her while she is checking on one of the patients in the otherwise empty NICU. You are standing just inches behind her, but she is too focused on the chart she’s holding to notice, so you quickly, carefully slip one hand under her scrubs to just barely brush her stomach with the tips of your fingers. You smirk to yourself as you feel her stomach muscles jump under your fingertips. She back ups on impulse only to find herself pressed up against you. You pull her closer to you with the arm that’s looped around her waist and start to trace slow circles on her skin with your thumb, which makes her squirm, which makes you smirk just a little more. You lean in so your chin rests gently on her shoulder and your temple is against her cheek. She relaxes a little and leans back into you, and you stand just stand there for a minute (because she smells like vanilla, or maybe coconut, and for some reason that makes you temporarily incapable of doing anything) before saying, “We’re going to need another neonatal intubation kit in here, I need you to grab one from the stockroom.”

 

Your lips are just barely brushing her ear and your breath moves the wispy bits of hair that have worked their way free of her ponytail with every word. Your bodies are pressed together so tightly that you can actually feel her breathing speed up against your chest, right through her back. Because even though those were the words that came out of your mouth, they were by no means what you were actually saying, and Izzie knows it. Your hand drifts further up under her scrubs and you let your fingers just graze the bottom of one breast through her bra before quickly removing your hand and walking away. In the door way you turn back, enjoy the expression on her face for just an instant, and then, with an air of complete professionalism, remind her about the intubation kit.

 

Ten minutes later you walk into the supply closet to find her waiting there. She’s standing with one hip cocked out to the side and her arms crossed. And she’s pouting.

 

“That,” she says, as she closes the distance between the two of you, “was not very nice.”

 

“Oh, so you’re mad at me?”

 

You lean in toward her as you ask and she pulls back a bit, but you slip one arm around her waist and pull her in so that your faces are just barely an inch apart. You hover with your lips almost touching hers, feeling her breath rush gently over your mouth, and wait it out. She buckles first, but also manages to slip her tongue past your lips before you even get the chance to react. Eventually you have to break apart for air, but you keep your forehead pressed against hers.

 

“Yes,” she manages, and it’s only a little bit breathier than it should be. You place both hands on her hips and pull back so you can see her face properly.

 

“Sooo, I should leave?” You tilt your head a little to the side and smile wickedly as you stretch your hand out toward the door.

 

Her eyes widen, her eyebrows come together and her jaw drops like she can’t quite figure out what to say to that. But when she notices the smile she just glares and pushes you back against the wall.

 

You start to laugh at her a little, because, honestly, even scowly, indignant Izzie is cute. But suddenly she has one hand under your blouse and her nails are dragging slowly across your nipple, and with the other hand she’s tugging your skirt up and cupping you through your panties. Then she's bending one finger up and it’s pressed firmly against you and your laugh turns quickly into an airy moan.

 

Now she’s the one smirking, and you would be scowling at her if you could get any kind of control over your facial expression.

 

Your top and bra are quickly thrown aside, which is _fabulous_ , because now it’s Izzie’s mouth on your breast, without any fabric getting in the way, and she has one hand tracing little swirly patterns on the back of your neck and the other hand is doing the same around your other nipple. When she eventually moves her hands away you make a little involuntary whimpering noise, but her mouth is still there and now her fingers are fiddling with the zipper on your skirt, so you try to be patient. But when she tugs your skirt off you feel her hesitate for a moment, and then her mouth is gone. You start squirming a little because you think she’s just doing this to tease you more. And that is seriously not nice.

 

But then you realize that she’s giggling. And having someone giggle at this point is just not a comfortable experience, even if it is Izzie.

 

And then you remember this morning and why you had wanted to find her so badly and what you had wanted to tell her. And your only reaction is to shut your eyes, lean your head back against the wall and groan. You know that you must be blushing furiously, but she’s holding you close, and she brushes a loose strand of hair from your face before whispering “Hello, Kitty” in your ear, so you don’t feel half as embarrassed as you think you should.

 

Instead of pulling the panties off, Izzie slips her fingers under their low waistband and slowly lets her hand inch its way down while she runs the nails of her other hand down your spine, making you shiver and gasp.

 

She kisses a line along your collarbone and up your neck and finally reaches your mouth as she slips one, two fingers into you and starts curling and pumping them in a pattern that never stays the same long enough for you to learn to anticipate her next move. And now she has her thumb teasing your clit and the other hand playing over your breasts. Your hips start rocking against her hand, trying to find the pressure that she is flatly refusing to give you. She spins her thumb around your clit a few more times before slipping a third finger inside you and curling them all to hit that spot perfectly. Your body arches against hers, bringing her thumb firmly against your clit as she bites down delicately on your neck. And all of the tension finally breaks, sending you into a orgasm that leaves you feeling spent and dopey as you rest with your forehead against Izzie’s shoulder, noticing that sweet coconutty-vanilla smell and feeling her run her fingers through your hair.

 

Her pager goes off before you have even started dressing. She grimaces and places one last, quick kiss on your temple before walking out of the room.

 

Just as you lean down to pick up your skirt, she pops her head back into the supply closet. “Take good care of them,” she says as she nods toward her panties, and you can tell that she is only _just_ managing to suppress a giggle. “They’re my favorites.”


End file.
